Royals of Villain Academy 3: Sinister Wizardry

by Eva Chase

  Wonderful. I managed not to groan and made my escape.

  In the hall, I tipped my head back against the wall and closed my eyes to gather myself. Okay, so it didn’t appear I could get this project cancelled. I’d just have to think until I came up with a strategy I could live with.

  And if it was a strategy that would win me that prize, even better. There were a heck of a lot of uses I could think of for an object enchanted by one of the experts on staff—many of which could end up making the difference between whether I survived my time here or not.

  Chapter Six

  Jude

  My Nary target was a slip of a girl who wandered around campus in frilly dresses with hair that looked as if it hadn’t been brushed since she got up. According to my project package, she was sixteen, but she didn’t look much older than twelve. She basically embodied the word “feeb.”

  I couldn’t say I felt any burning desire to make her acquaintance, but a certain amount of pity stirred as I watched her meander toward Killbrook Hall. It wasn’t hard to imagine why Rory had been peeved about this assignment.

  From the glimpse I’d caught of her face as Ms. Grimsworth had announced it, maybe “infuriated” was a more accurate word. It was a good thing I didn’t really give a shit about winning this competition, because I sure as hell couldn’t put in a solid effort without making the Bloodstone scion even more pissed off with me.

  So I’d throw this game. No big deal. I cared a lot more about getting back into Rory’s good graces than pleasing the professors. She was probably already coming up with some scheme to turn this project around. I’d give her a little longer for her initial fury to cool off, and then I’d come around offering my assistance, and we’d see if that didn’t gain me some ground.

  Just as the feeb disappeared into the hall bearing my family’s name, Connar came ambling out. At the sight of my fellow scion, a prickle ran down my back. I had a few things to say to him right now.

  I caught up with him halfway across the green and fell into step beside him, our footsteps rapping against the ground together, my slim shadow looking rather feeble itself next to his bulky one in the warm mid-morning sunlight.

  “Mr. Stormhurst,” I said with forced brightness. “I hear you’ve set yourself up as our Bloodstone scion’s white knight.”

  Connar’s expression twitched, but he had to have realized that a display that public would get talked about. He drew his chin up, his mouth firming. “She doesn’t need a ‘knight,’ but it was about time someone stood up for the pentacle.”

  I guffawed. “Oh, this is all about scion solidarity, is it? And not at all because you’ll champion your way into her bed?”

  I hadn’t really been sure whether attraction factored into Connar’s motives, but the faint flush that crept up his neck gave me all the confirmation I needed. The guy could be a blockhead, but he had eyes. Rory was gorgeous no matter how you felt about her attitude, although personally it was her spirit I liked best. Even if her stubbornness was making achieving my aims difficult at the moment.

  “That’s not the point,” Connar said. “She might not want anything like that after the way I treated her. And if she does, then it won’t be any of your business, will it?”

  “I just thought you might have forgotten that you can’t offer her much of anything. Seeing as you’re the only remaining Stormhurst heir, thanks to various violent takeovers.”

  That might have been a lower blow than was absolutely necessary. Some of that violence had come from the guy beside me. Connar’s stance tensed, and his voice came out just barely above a growl. “That isn’t how I wanted things to be. And you are in pretty much the same position, but that didn’t stop you from chasing after her last term, did it? You weren’t what she wanted, though, it seems like. Whatever she does now, it’s up to her, not either of us.”

  “Of course,” I said, letting my tone lighten again. I didn’t really want Connar pissed off at me too. He was not a guy whose bad side you wanted to get on—and it actually did take quite a bit for him to hold a grudge, to be fair. He just needed to realize he couldn’t expect to slide right into Rory’s heart easy as pie. “But I intend to make her choice very easy. So don’t get your hopes up.”

  I veered off as he reached Nightwood Tower, where he must have had class. I wasn’t due anywhere until the afternoon, so I meandered vaguely in the direction of the lake, turning over possible grand gestures in my mind.

  Driving all the way over to pay her a visit hadn’t swayed her. Well, it might have if I hadn’t somehow said the absolute wrong thing all over again. Just showing up on her doorstep now and saying I wanted to help might not cut it.

  I could do better than that anyway. Scheming was my forte. How could we best turn this project on its head with maximum enjoyment along the way? If I came to her with a plan already worked out, or even in motion…

  My mind was spinning through the possibilities so intently I almost ignored the jangle of my ringtone. It cut through my concentration, though—and there was a tiny chance it could be Rory, taking me up on my promise to win her over of her own accord. I fished the phone out of my pocket and grimaced when I saw it was my home line.

  “Hi, Mom,” I said when I picked up, because my father never called me. He barely spoke to me when I was in the same room as him, let alone a whole state away.

  “Darling,” my mother said, in a simpering tone that set my nerves on edge in an instant. It was the voice she used on my father when she had to give him news she expected him to react badly to—her walking-on-eggshells voice, I’d always thought of it as. She generally hadn’t felt the need to use it on me. “How are you doing?”

  “About the same as before I left home two days ago,” I said breezily, staying wary underneath. “We got our summer project. Lots of work ahead. The usual crowd came for the session. Not much else to report.”

  “Well, at least there hasn’t been any trouble.” She let out a twitter of a laugh, which also sounded nervous. What the fuck was going on? Had Dad made a big to-do about something to do with me, and she was looking for me to smooth things over with him, as if it were my fault?

  “Did you expect there to be trouble?” I asked. “What are you calling about, Mom?”

  “Oh, I just—I would have told you while you were here, but there’s so much uncertainty, especially at my age—I didn’t want to bring it up until we were sure everything was progressing as it should, and now you might not be home for over a month...”

  All her rambling was only making my skin tighten more. “What are you going to tell me?” I said. “You don’t have to explain all that other stuff.” Just spit it out. Before I broke the phone with how hard I was gripping it.

  She sucked in a breath and gave another twittering laugh. “I’m sure this will be a surprise—it was to us—but we are so happy. You’re going to have a little sister.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks where I’d still been moseying along the path, my heart plummeting to my stomach. One sharp word slipped out before I could control my reaction. “What?”

  “I’m three months along now. We just got the results from genetics testing to make sure she’s healthy—and the report gave us the gender too. Isn’t it wonderful? Not that you weren’t enough, of course, never think that, but we always did hope for two, and for it to happen after all this time…” Her laugh sounded genuinely joyful now. “Honestly I’ve had trouble believing it.”

  The strength in my legs wavered. I’d have leaned against something if I hadn’t been in the middle of a damned field. Instead I let myself lower to the grass a few feet from the path. My heart still seemed to be pummeling my stomach with its thudding beat. The world around me had numbed.

  “I guess Dad must be happy too,” I managed to say. There was no way I could ask the question I really wanted to—but I already knew the answer to that, didn’t I? I’d heard the way he talked about me. This pregnancy wouldn’t have happened unless it was the way he’d have wanted.
The way he’d wanted all along.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed, so much more than even before.

  But Mom had no idea I knew about any of that. She babbled on about her due date in the new year and possible names and, like a knife to my chest, how thrilled Dad was, yes, completely.

  As her voice washed over me, I thought back to the last two weeks at home. Dad had been his usual standoffish self… but I had thought once or twice that he’d seemed more affectionate toward her than he usually was, hadn’t I? And maybe her spirits had been slightly more buoyant. The first signs had been there. I just never would have put the pieces together like this. She’d turned forty-five this year.

  But it happened, especially when you had fearmancer doctors using magic to help things along. After all this fucking time…

  I registered that she’d paused, presumably waiting for me to say something a little more meaningful than, “Huh,” or “Great.” I fumbled for my words. Generally I was rather good with them. At this particular moment, they careened around my head in total chaos.

  If I gave away what I knew, I’d be in even deeper shit than I already was. I had to react like she’d expect me to.

  “I’m so happy for you,” I said, injecting as much warmth into my voice as I could summon. “And I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

  After I hung up, my hand dropped to my lap. I couldn’t find the wherewithal to even return my phone to my pocket. I could barely focus on the scenery ahead of me as anything more than a greenish blur.

  Six months. I’d thought I’d have years, maybe even decades, but now it was six months until my life completely imploded.

  Chapter Seven

  Rory

  Benjamin Alvarez and his friends had obviously gotten wise during their years at Blood U. The four architecture students who were studying here over the summer had come onto the field behind Ashgrave Hall to work on sketches, and they positioned themselves back-to-back in a rough circle. As far as I could tell, it made conversation awkward, but it also meant no harassing fearmancer could sneak up on them.

  Which meant that spying on them was a little tricky as well. I’d spotted them when I’d come out of the kennel farther up the field, after paying Malcolm’s familiar a little visit. The Nightwood scion might have warned me off from Shadow, but the eager lift of the wolf’s head when it’d heard my voice had been enough confirmation that in its opinion, I was perfectly welcome.

  When I’d seen Benjamin with the others, I’d wandered into the forest that bordered the campus grounds and picked my way along through the cool shadows until I was as close as I could get while staying concealed. I’d still had to brainstorm my way into working out a sound amplifying spell so I could hear what the Naries were saying. It was halfway through the afternoon, and I still wasn’t sure what I was submitting as my project goal. Maybe my subject would give me some inspiration.

  So far they hadn’t talked very much, just brief comments of encouragement when one or another had shown off a sketch. Watching them, my fingers itched to create something myself. Back home, I’d sketched and then transformed those images into little sculptures all the time. Now, with magic, I could do way more way faster. I just hadn’t had much time or energy to exercise my artistic side.

  One of the two girls had brought a plastic grocery bag out with her. She’d been eating an apple when I’d first spotted them. Then she’d gnawed through a granola bar. Now she’d moved on to mini powdered donuts that required her to regularly wipe her fingers on the grass before she started drawing again.

  As she started on her third of those, the other girl glanced over at her with a frown. “Are you okay?” she said, her voice turned tinny by my spell as it traveled to my ears. “We just had lunch a couple hours ago. Are you that hungry still?”

  The girl’s hand paused halfway to her mouth, and her cheeks reddened. “I know. I just—my stomach keeps feeling empty. I should probably stop now.” She gulped down the rest of the donut and nudged the bag farther away.

  My gut twisted. She didn’t look like someone who regularly overate—she was pretty slim, really. And her friend obviously wasn’t used to her snacking that much. I lifted my gaze to scan the area around the field.

  My eyes caught on a figure propped against the side of Ashgrave Hall, mostly hidden in the building’s shade. I couldn’t recognize the guy at that distance—he wasn’t anyone I knew well—but I could tell from his slick clothes that he was almost certainly a fearmancer, not another Nary. And I’d be willing to wager half the Bloodstone properties that he’d already picked his goal for his summer project target. He was trying to make her stuff herself… so she’d get fat? That was his big plan?

  The girl was glancing at the grocery bag again, hunger pangs apparently still bothering her. I set my jaw and murmured a warding spell that I directed her way. It would cut off any magic flowing toward her, at least for now.

  After a moment, the tension in her face relaxed. She went back to her sketching, no more longing looks at her snack stash.

  I got a little relief from seeing that, if not much satisfaction. I’d protected her for now, but I couldn’t follow every Nary on campus around, warding them constantly as my magic faded. It wasn’t all that easy to cast a long-term spell on a living being to begin with.

  Benjamin held up his latest sketch of a sweeping modern structure, and an idea tickled up from the back of my head. I couldn’t make all of campus safe for the Naries, and none of it was really safe for them right now. Their dorms were shared with several fearmancers, and they had no magic to lock their bedroom doors.

  What if they had a space here that was just for them, like we mages had the warded areas the Naries weren’t allowed to know even existed? A building they could retreat to if the other students’ aggression got to be too much. One spot would be much easier to ward. And I’d be playing to the strengths of my “target.”

  The inspiration came with an exhilarated rush. I watched the group for a few minutes longer as more and more pieces clicked into place in my mind, and then I hustled across the field, giving them a wide berth, so I could get writing.

  When I came into my dorm room, Victory and Sinclair were lounging on one of the couches. Imogen was just clearing her dishes from the table after a late lunch. My nemesis ignored me, but Imogen caught my eye as I crossed the room and pulled a quick grimace that served as a warning.

  The girls had been up to something. I braced myself as I opened my bedroom door.

  For the first few seconds, I just blinked, my mind taking a moment to process the scene in front of me. They’d… turned all of my furniture upside down. The desk wouldn’t have been that hard, but the bed tipped at an angle from its thick wooden headboard, the wardrobe with its knobby feet sticking up by the ceiling—that would have taken some effort. And I didn’t want to think about the mess my clothes would be in when I managed to right it.

  It’d have taken even more effort to break through the protections I’d cast on my door. I’d put a lot of energy into them… but Victory was one of the top students here at Villain Academy, and she’d had at least one helper. How long had they spent on this prank?

  I didn’t have time to worry about that. I closed the door without giving the girls the enjoyment of seeing my reaction and heaved the desk and chair over with just a quick punch of magic for help. I’d fix the rest later. Right now I needed to get this project statement written.

  But as I sat at the desk with my back to my upside-down bed, the uncomfortable sense crept over me that even I, scion and nearly baron, didn’t have any place on campus I could really call safe. I didn’t even know who I could count on and who I needed to protect myself from.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one person I was sure of. I’d just have to draw on some of that creativity of mine if I wanted to talk to him again.

  By daylight, this plan had seemed pretty solid—and a little amusing too. Now, as I peered out my b
edroom window toward the one below through the darkness just before midnight, I was starting to feel it might be full-out ridiculous.

  It’d been the best option I could come up with, though. I’d be leaving no evidence like a text or a phone call would. There should be no chance of being interrupted in that one private space. I knew I could cast an illusion strong enough to hide a person.

  Just go for it, I told myself as the cooling night air washed over me. I had to do something. If there was anything I was becoming convinced of by my time here at Blood U, it was that I wasn’t likely to survive fearmancer society very long if I tried to go it alone.

  I tested the length of hunting rope I’d been able to buy at a store in town. It held firm where I’d tied a knot to the leg of my now right-side-up bed, doubly secured with magic. I looked down the building toward the open window below mine again and murmured the words to reinforce the illusion I’d already cast. No one looking this way should see anything other than empty windows and a blank wall.

  Clutching the rope, I clambered out the window. The taut material bit into my palms as I adjusted my weight so I was balancing between my grip on the rope and my feet braced against the stone wall. Then, with a shaky breath, I started walking my way down. I kept one hand tight around the rope at any given moment, moving one and then the other.

  There was a five-story drop below me. I wasn’t sure any mage had enough magic to heal me if I fell.

  An ache spread through my fingers and then across my shoulders. My heel hit the window frame a moment later. It hadn’t been that far a climb.

  This was the tricky part, though. I eased myself to the left of the window and descended until I was level with it. Then I took a little jump and swung right through, tugging the rope with me.